


Wager

by dylovan



Series: I Am The Brains, You Are The Power [1]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, also mention of non-con, sort of non-con, terrible, worst ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylovan/pseuds/dylovan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus Hammersmith made a very very ill-advised bet and now has to go along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wager

_Snick._

Magnus flicked his lighter with trembling, calloused fingers. He'd stepped outside for a minute for a smoke. He was completely on edge, and the cannibalistic black-clad slavish Revengencers wandering the grounds didn't help his nerves any. 

He brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed in the smoke, held it, puffed it out to combine with the mist that seemed to be lying over everything lately. He was miserable. It was goddamn Toki Wartooth's fault. He wouldn't stop crying, it was getting everyone down. So what if he was chained to a dungeon wall and tortured nearly to death? It wasn't a fucking excuse to whine. 

Right now, though, he was mostly nervous because—

"You lost the bet."

Magnus turned around. The Metal Masked Assassin lurked in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the doorsill. The man moved silently for such a big guy. 

"What bet?" Magnus said carefully. He tapped ash onto the ground. 

"You know," the Assassin growled. Behind the silver mask, his eyes might have glimmered. 

"No I don't."

He was thrown back against the stained concrete wall by the Assassin's fist colliding with his face. He moaned. He thought he'd heard his nose crack. 

"Don't play dumb with me, Hammersmith," said the Assassin. "You know."

"Right," he said, defeated. 

At the beginning of this whole fiasco, they'd made a bet that whoever got fed up and fucked one of the prisoners in the dungeon first had to blow the other guy. It was a really goddamn stupid bet and Magnus hadn't really thought it was serious; he was mostly drunk at the time. But the Assassin was nothing if not literal-minded. 

Anyway, Magnus had gotten _so goddamned sick_ of the prisoners' constant whining that he'd...well...fooled around a bit with them. What was he gonna do? It was difficult to devote your whole fucking life to a stupid revenge plot. There weren't any chicks around here that would sleep with a desperate washed-up ex-junkie like him. So he'd taken his sexual frustration out on Toki and Abigail, and he'd lost the bet. 

"I'm not sucking your dick," he said. He rubbed his sore face and stubbed out the cigarette, then dropped it into the muck on the sidewalk below. "That's gay. No goddamn way."

"Yes goddamn way," the Assassin said. "You made that bet and you'd better hold it up."

"It's a stupid bet! Just get one of those Revengencer guys to suck your dick!" Magnus gestured sweepingly at the zombies around them. 

"They bite," said the Assassin, his usually emotionless voice showing some memory of pain. 

"Fuck," Magnus said. "I'm not blowing you. Forget it."

"I don't think it's an option."

The point of the spear pressing against Magnus's chest managed to convince him, so they headed inside. The Assassin took Magnus up to his room, which had a bunch of weird black metal posters with pictures of necrophilia and cannibals and gory suicides, and directed him to get on his knees. 

"No way," Magnus said. 

The spear poked him. 

"I'm not sitting on the floor like some kind of fucking slut!" Magnus said. "That's where I'll draw the line. Get on the bed."

The Assassin definitely didn't like being told what to do, but he definitely did like blowjobs, so he slowly situated himself on the bed. The covers were black and had little patterns of daggers on them. He clenched the spear and eyeballed Magnus, who was swallowing his pride and climbing up on the bed too. 

The ex-guitarist looked up at the imposing giant of a man before him. He crawled between his thighs and sort of prodded him to sit leaning back against a couple pillows. 

"Uh..." Magnus reached forward and played with the Assassin's belt buckle. "I dunno what to do."

"I dunno, haven't you ever got a blowjob before, you goddamn virgin?"

"Yeah." Magnus didn't mention how long it had been since anything like that had happened. 

"Just copy them. I dunno, it can't be that hard."

Magnus rolled his eyes, still smug. The Assassin gently smacked him in the face. "I don't have all fucking day."

Magnus looked down. He bit his lip and palmed across the bulge in the front of the Assassin's ripped black jeans. He could feel it, pulsating, thick, and was very very nervous because he had a sneaking suspicion that it was absolutely massive. He drew his fingers up and down the bigger man's fly before unzipping it and helping him yank his jeans and boxers down, exposing his half-hard cock, jutting up from a bed of closely furled silver hair that matched the hair on his head. He gripped it and was rather intimidated, but also...well, weirdly aroused by it. Probably just a biological reaction. He definitely wasn't attracted to the man. 

He felt an oversized hand knotting in his hair. "Go on."

He looked up and smirked. "Make me." He winced as the other man slapped him again. It hurt, his whole face was tingling, but he kinda liked it. 

He leaned forward and kissed the other man's cock, tasting salt sweat and metal. He swirled his tongue around the tip, stroking with both hands what wasn't in his mouth. This wasn't really that bad. He wondered why chicks always complained about it. He noticed the way the bigger man tensed when he licked over the sensitive head, and concentrated there, rasping his tongue across the slit and drawing a premature moan. 

The Assassin pushed down on the back of his head, making him take in more. He closed his eyes and tried not to gag, bobbed his head to stimulate the older man properly. It was forced in even deeper. He could feel veins in the Assassin's shaft pulsing against his lips. He groaned and drool coated the other man's cock as he gagged. It was probably best to get this over with quick. 

When he closed his eyes it was easier just to focus on the other man's taste and heat and musk. Tears dripped down his face from the stinging in the back of his throat, but he ignored them and pushed everything away except the cock he was sucking. He tasted precum, coating his lips and tongue and dripping down his chin into his beard. A strange heat was spreading through him...he felt that this was where he was meant to be. And he liked it, even if it was totally gay. 

Thick fingers threaded in his hair, scratched at his shoulders. "Fuck, that's good."

He opened his eyes and looked up at the Assassin, his lips trembling slightly around the other man's member. He felt kind of proud at the state he'd reduced the normally stoic killer to: grunting and trembling and sweating, hands clenching and unclenching, pulling at his hair like reins. He felt the silver-faced man's cock pressing against the roof of his mouth and swallowed it whole, making his throat spasm. His eyes closed again as the other man gave in and started brutally fucking his mouth. He was desperate to feel him cum in him and he was so damn close. He felt like one of the zombie Revengencers, disposable and mindlessly used, and he didn't care any more. Magnus whined for it, sending vibrations through the Assassin's body.

"I'm gonna...you fucking slut..." the Assassin breathed. He gasped as he came quickly in the brunet's mouth, his cock twitching between his lips and satisfying him. 

Magnus let out a little moan as he tasted the Assassin's seed. He tried to swallow all of it—there was so much, and it was dripping all over, spurting onto his face and in his hair. He withdrew, gagged, and suddenly puked over the side of the bed. The Assassin watched passionlessly. 

His eyes were watering and his hair was stuck to his face with puke and spunk. His face was still red from being hit, and he looked like a tired sweaty mess. He sat back and looked at the Assassin, panting and (for once) speechless.

"You look kinda cute like that," the Metal Masked Assassin mused.


End file.
